


The Throne

by IneffableFangirl_writes



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bondage, M/M, art prompt, crowley is bad at words, the throne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 10:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableFangirl_writes/pseuds/IneffableFangirl_writes
Summary: "No miracling yourself free, darling, or your angel will put an end to the fun."Gingerhaole's "Polaroids" series inspired.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 112





	The Throne

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Polaroids](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531924) by [gingerhaole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerhaole/pseuds/gingerhaole). 

Inspired by chapter four, “Throne” of ‘Polaroids’ by gingerhaole. 

“Was this what you had in mind when you bought this...chair?” Aziraphale wanted to say it was a throne because it very clearly was, but he didn’t want to give Crowley the satisfaction. Crowley, who was at the moment, gloriously naked and tied to his throne, hands bound above his head to the ears and top rail.  
“Hadn’t crossed my mind,” Crowley replied with a broad grin, confident despite the fact that he was at Aziraphale’s mercy. The angel could tell it was all bravado--Crowley’s breathing was shallow, his pupils dilated, his erection twitching in time with his heartbeat.  
“You remember what I told you, right?”  
The demon nodded rapidly and Aziraphale smiled. Crowley’s red hair was a shock against his pale skin and the dark wood of the chair, his throat bared as he directed his eyes skyward. He was so beautiful that it nearly took Aziraphale’s breath away.  
“Say it,” the angel commanded, and Crowley shuddered with his whole body. A single bead of sweat ran down the column of his throat.  
“No miracle-ing myself free or you’ll stop.”  
“I don’t believe those were the words I used.”  
“No miracle-ing myself free or you’ll put an end to all the fun.”  
“Good lad,” Aziraphale patted his cheek. His trousers were tight around the groin and the only logical thing to do was remove them. He tied his sensible shoes and stepped out of them, tucking them neatly under the couch before removing his trousers as well. He folded them along the creases and hung them over the back of the couch. As an afterthought he removed his bow tie, laying it neatly atop the trousers and undoing the first button of his collar. His shirttails covered his thighs and the garters holding up his socks--all white, bringing out the flush of his skin. Crowley’s mouth hung open a little, eyes caressing the curves of Aziraphale’s form. He wanted to vanish the ropes and grab the angel, to wrap his hands around Aziraphale’s hips or thighs or honestly any part of him. But if he did, if he let go, then the game would be over. Instead, he gripped the wood of the chair even tighter and tried to keep his ass on the chair, even if it was on the very edge. Aziraphale curled his hand almost reverently around Crowley’s cock and gave it a gentle caress, running a finger up the vein along the side of it before sticking the finger in his mouth. There was nothing for him to lick off, but the demon watched him slowly suck on his index finger and then release it with a pop.  
“Is there something you need, my dear?”  
“Aziraphale,” Crowley growled and the angel smiled beatifically.   
“Yes, my dear. I’m right here.”  
“Touch me,” he snarled and Aziraphale tsked and shook a finger at him.  
“Ah ah ah, that was very rude. If you want something from me, you’ll have to ask nicely. Say please for me, my dear.”  
Crowley snorted and Aziraphale shrugged, standing up and walking back to the couch where his trousers and bowtie were.   
“Wait, Aziraphale! Please.”  
The angel stepped out of his pants and set them beside the trousers and tie, turning back towards Crowley.  
“Say it again,” he purred and Crowley swallowed.  
“Please, Aziraphale. Touch me.”  
The angel sunk back onto his knees and wrapped his hand around Crowley’s member so loosely that he was barely touching it. He stroked him as gently as he could without letting it go entirely, his skin ghosting against Crowley’s. The demon spread his legs further apart, offering himself to his angel. When Aziraphale was like this, gentle, teasing so maddeningly that Crowley could nearly discorporate, he usually took control. Aziraphale liked that, Crowley knew he did. Aziraphale might enjoy initiating sex but what he enjoyed was Crowley losing his cool and taking what he wanted. However, if he were to do that now, the game would be over. He tried to focus on the rope binding his wrists, the feel of them pressed against the chair, the way the velvet cushion felt against his skin, anything but the slow torture of not nearly enough pressure from Aziraphale’s hand where he most wanted it. He hissed a breath and thrust upwards with his hips, trying to get some friction.  
“None of that now,” Aziraphale scolded, wagging a finger at him. One hand remained on Crowley’s cock, though. “If you want something, you must ask for it, and politely.”  
The moan the demon made was a wanting, heavy sound and Aziraphale smiled.  
“In words, dear heart.”  
Crowley didn’t talk about what he wanted, he just did it. He was not a talker by nature--a smooth talker at times, a voice of temptation, but never to ask for things for himself. The words of what he wanted were tangled in his throat and he let out another moan.  
“I’m afraid that wasn’t words either. Dear dear, is this too hard for you?” Aziraphale tightened his grip on the word ‘hard’, but only for that word. Crowley whined low in his throat.   
“Aziraphale,” he said, once he got his words back. “Aziraphale do it again.”  
The angel wanted more, though, and he smiled gently.  
“Use your words, Crowley, dear.”  
Crowley did not want to use his words. He wanted to miracle himself free and pin Aziraphale to the floor or the wall or this very chair and thrust into him, bury himself so deep that the angel cried out, let Crowley tear off the shirt and grab handfuls of rosy flesh to anchor himself as he drove his angel to the brink of ecstacy and held him there until he wept. He wanted to bite Aziraphale’s plush lower lip and then suck on it in the way he knew the angel liked and slowly open him up with his fingers until Aziraphale was begging him for it, begging him to be inside him. All that came out was another strangled moan.  
“Dear one,” his angel said, using the hand not torturing Crowley’s cock to cup his cheek. The hand was so warm, so soft that Crowley leaned in, desperate for touch.   
“Shhhh,” Aziraphale hushed, running his thumb along the sharp line of his lover’s cheekbone. “It’s all right now, I know what you need.”  
He lowered his hand to Crowley’s balls, which he cradled, massaging them gently.  
“Do you want to finish, my love?”  
Honestly, Crowley didn’t know. This was torture, the not enough, but if he came it would be over and he didn’t want that either. He wanted to come, but he also wanted to plaster his body against his angel’s, to touch as much of Aziraphale as he could.   
“Zira,” he panted, unable to even manage Aziraphale’s full name.  
“Yes, my dear boy?”  
“Please,” he gasped. “Please, Zira.”  
Aziraphale’s grip tightened around Crowley’s member, it was firm now, his hand providing exquisite pressure.  
“Do you want to fuck my hand, Crowley?”  
His hips moved entirely without any volition on his part, thrusting up into the beautifully tight circle of Aziraphale’s fist. He let his head loll back as one of his angel’s hands massaged his balls, one finger ghosting the perineum before nudging the pucker of his asshole as the other provided a channel for his cock. He needed Aziraphale to touch him, he needed the feel of his angel’s skin pressed against his, the smell of Aziraphale in his nose, on his tongue.  
“Zira,” he whimpered again and Aziraphale massaged the pucker of his ass.  
“No,” Crowley gasped. “Please, I need---”  
The hand withdrew and rested on his stomach. The other hand loosened around him, robbing him of that perfect pressure.  
“What do you need, dear one? Tell angel what you need.”  
There wasn’t a word that encompassed what he wanted and even if there was, he wouldn’t have been able to say it.  
“You,” the demon panted.  
“You have me, my dear. Right here.”  
“More,” Crowley choked. He could feel his body beginning the race towards orgasm but he needed Aziraphale’s touch on his skin, the press of flesh, the taste of him.  
“To see more of me?” Aziraphale’s brow was wrinkled a little in thought and Crowley thrust helplessly into the loosened hand; it was better than nothing. He shook his head in response to Aziraphale’s question. If only he could find the words to ask for what he wanted, for the warmth of Aziraphale’s skin on as much of him as possible. He could feel his resolve weakening; he wasn’t going to be able to keep himself from miracling free. He was going to ruin the game but he needed this so badly, needed Aziraphale. He gasped the first word he could summon.  
“Mouth.”  
“Do you want to fuck my mouth, darling boy?”  
He shook his head empathetically and leaned towards his love, head sagging eyes pleading, shoulders pulled so tight it was painful but not as painful as all the places that Aziraphale wasn’t touching him. The angel released his cock entirely and cradled Crowley’s head between his hands.  
“Dear one, what is it? Tell me what you need.” He snapped his fingers and the bindings on Crowley’s wrists vanished, the demon slumped forward into Aziraphale’s lap. Warm hands ran down his spine, caressed his sides, stroked his hair.   
“Was it too much? Did I go too far?”  
Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s shirt and inhaled, his erection pressing against the one under Aziraphale’s shirt. He pushed his hips forward, pressing himself against that hardness, gasping as he did.  
“You needed more of me to touch, was that it?” Aziraphale whispered and Crowley nodded helplessly, grinding against the warm body. He could feel himself approaching climax and he clutched Aziraphale as he rubbed himself frantically against the angel, eyes half-closing in pleasure. His angel reached around and held him, pressing warm hands against his back so their bodies were even more tightly entwined and with a shudder and a whimper, Crowley came.  
He was barely finished with the aftershocks before he was pushing Aziraphale’s shirt out of the way, pushing the garter belt and underpants aside to take the angel’s cock into his mouth and swallow it down. Eyes closing, he worked his jaw and pressed his tongue against the musky flesh of his angel, sucking with his nose buried in the blond curls just above the juncture of his legs. Aziraphale made a surprised noise and buried his hands in Crowley’s hair.  
“My dear, this is hardly--oh”  
Crowley let his tongue become a little more snakelike and was using the tip to rub gently against a vein at the base. The angel’s grip on his hair tightened.  
“Oh yes, my dear. Crowley, that’s marvelous.”  
Glowing from the praise and recent orgasm, Crowley sucked and licked and bobbed his head over Aziraphale’s member until the angel was coming too, babbling a litany of praises interspersed with Crowley’s name. Once he was finished, he carded his fingers through Crowley’s hair, his cock softening in the demon’s mouth.   
“If you would be so kind as to come back up here, I would like to kiss you. My lovely serpent. My beautiful darling.”  
Crowley slithered up his angel’s body and nuzzled Aziraphale’s neck before tilting his head up for a kiss. The angel held him close and pressed a few chaste kisses to his mouth before getting lazier, sloppier.  
“I do believe that I should take you to bed, my love.”  
Crowley made a contended murmuring noise and Aziraphale rolled over a little and scooped up his lover in a show of angelic strength that he rarely exhibited. The demon purred and curled himself into the angel’s chest, only pouting when Aziraphale set him on the bed, though he settled into the mattress when he saw that the angel had only set him down so he could remove the rest of his clothing and curl up around Crowley, skin-to-skin. As the angel pulled the blanket over the two of them, he pressed a kiss to Crowley’s hair and the demon stretched before snuggled into his angel’s chest.   
“I love you, my darling.”  
Crowley was already snoring, but Aziraphale didn’t mind at all. He had everything he wanted.


End file.
